


Broken Souls

by MyOwnReality



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Canon Relationship, Escape, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Incomplete, M/M, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Rimming, Same general setting, Smut, Southside Chicago, Terrible Parents, Very different childhoods, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-06 22:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14066547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnReality/pseuds/MyOwnReality
Summary: Something is different about the blue-eyed boy as his eyes stare intently at the green. He wants, needs, to escape too. Sitting there stunned until the black haired, blue eyed, boy moves closer to him. He can't let this boy go, not that he was sure why. As he searched for the right words, only a few came out. "Fifty bucks and I'm yours for the night."





	1. The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is still a work in progress but hopefully, you guys enjoy. I'm not sure how long this will be yet? My topic is pretty heavy so big trigger warning of rape, and that please don't read it if that could set you off (please!). Both of our lovely boys had a bad past that you're already gonna be introduced to in this first chapter before further dissection in later chapters. I hope you enjoy, this is my first fan fiction but I've read so many I feel like it's my turn to share my shitty ideas and are mostly sad combinations of all the wonderful writings I've already read on this wonderful site. Okay, I'm done now, I hope you enjoy. This first chapter is 3401 words.

As both boys sat there on the bus, staring each other in the eyes, little did they know that they were both hiding. Whether they were hiding from someone, something, or just the general circumstances their life has been made up of until this point, they just knew they had to get away. They didn’t know each other's names, captivated by the blue and green eyes across from them, sitting bundled on the train on the cold January night. I guess you could say it was odd, this weird lure the blue-eyed boy had for the green, so in his attempt at nonchalance, he followed the siren call and sat beside him. The green-eyed boy simply turned his head and smirked, leaning to whisper in his ears. “Fifty bucks and I’m yours for the night.”

His blue eyes seemed to snap shut as his skin, white as snow, seemed to redden slightly at the suggestion. Suddenly he felt long, thin, fingers running through his jet black hair, lightly patting his head before standing up, the tall redhead addressed him again. “Just let me know, I think it could be fun for the both of us, you seem to have a spark in your eye. Also, a boys gotta get money to eat somehow.” With that he slipped a crumpled piece of paper into the front pocket of his button up shirt and left, leaving the boy sitting there in wonder. 

It really was no surprise, from an outsiders point of view, how their lives had turned to become so fucked up. Of course, those people didn’t know the half of it, two boys hiding from their problems on a crowded city bus, the lonely redhead selling himself for a couple dozen bucks. It should come as no surprise when the black hair boy dialed the number, break shaky, before saying, “Where are you right now?”

“Wherever you want me to be. What should I call you tonight?”

The black hair boy hesitated, questioning the circumstances. He wasn’t certain if he was doing the right thing by telling the attractive redhead his name, he would probably lie about his anyway, yet he couldn’t seem to find the strength to tell him anything but the truth. “Mickey.”

“Hi Mickey, I’m Curtis. Where should we meet?” With that question, the blue-eyed boy with the jet black hair, Mickey, rattles off the location of an abandoned building nearby. “Oh, and Mickey? We’re using condoms and no extra charge will change that tonight. I haven't had an STD yet and I’m content with keeping it that way.” Mickey was probably expected to be disappointed at this rubber barrier stopping him from what most people would view as the real fun tonight, but all Mickey could do what grin and he slightly chucked.

“Not a problem, sir.” He added with emphasis and a slightly mocking tone. “I’ll be there in ten.”

~~~

Curtis was not the redhead's name, it was Ian. He was seventeen, living in southside Chicago, willing to do anything at this point to gain a few more bucks to leave this place. His mother had told him after her last pregnancy that he had four siblings, but considering how she seemed to sell them all off or leave them at their father's doorstep shortly after the birth, it wasn’t as if Ian knew any of them. To Ian, he was an only child, despite being told he was the middle child of her five. He never really understood why she decided to keep him, he apparently had four other perfectly healthy siblings for her to choose from. Her reasoning was simple enough though as he grew older; “Their father is a drunk, your father is a stranger. I feel safer with a strangers baby than with the psychopaths.” 

Once he first heard that reasoning come out of his mother's mouth, he didn’t understand. Even as he understood now, especially after briefly meeting the man in passing, he didn’t understand why she kept returning to him. He didn’t understand why she left his sibling to rot with him. He soon stopped questing this as he realized at least they had each other, he was the one left to rot all along.

Ever since he was little, he and his mother would float from house to house, searching desperately for a place to stay. His mother would enter the rundown car a little slack-jawed as a man gave her an address through the window of the driver's seat. He knew then he had a place to stay for a few days, he knew that before he was even old enough to realize they never had a place to stay. He knew what his mother was doing, whether he would admit to it or not, but he was only six when the realization occurred so he decided, convincing himself, that it was all a misinterpretation, his mother wouldn’t do that.

The facade of it all was already shaking atop thin twigs and all it took was him having to take a piss at twelve years old before he saw his mom being beaten behind a smaller RV. He ran up to his mom in a futile attempt to stop this, but he ended up being struck to the ground, not that his mother seemed to mind much. She simply said enough, it’s not worth it, and left, leaving Ian to scurry back to the car alone after her. They didn’t speak about it, she simply just handed him a cigarette and lit it, saying it’ll help with the pain. He took it gratefully, inhaling it deep in his lungs before blowing it out inside the car, the white seats stained a light yellow. He didn’t sleep much that night.

A few months later he turned thirteen. He wasn’t all that excited about it if he was honest, but his mom seemed to be. “Hey Ian, can we talk.” She said with a manic smile plastered on her face.

“Sure mom, what is it?”

“So you’re a teenager now which means you can start working for money.”

“Oh, okay, yeah, I’ll get on that. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a job, however, I think you’ll need to sign me up for a workers permit first.” 

“Not a job silly.” That manic smile that had briefly disappeared seemed to return to her face. “You’re finally old enough to pretend to be someone you’re not. That’s an important skill. You’re finally ready to use it.”

“What do you mean mom?” Ian peered up with her, innocence still lurking in his eyes despite his dodgy childhood. 

“Son, you are your product. What do you have to offer? Yourself, your body.” She paused before continuing. “I found some people interested in your product, they agreed because they decided that it’s okay as long as you’re at least a teenager. You are going to have to sell your product tonight.” 

“What do you mean mom?” The innocence was slowly disappearing from his face and he wanted to run, but he stayed there frozen, unable to move.

“I’m sorry son, what else are we to do to survive?” With that, she simply stood up and started walking away. “Please son, be a good boy, for your mother.” She added before closing the door leaving him in the dark RV they had found themselves living in that weekend. He was terrified as he sat there, too afraid to move before he felt a large hand press down on his shoulder. Suddenly he was no longer afraid, he was completely numb.

He was completely numb that whole night as the large man pulled down his pants, parting Ian’s lips. He was numb that whole night as the man above him used his body until pain-pricked tears left his eyes. It was as if he was watching this take place, he couldn’t be the small boy underneath that large man's frame, right? His mother wouldn’t let this happen to him. He laid there that night as the older man used him, the last bits of innocence being ripped from him with each painful thrust. As the older man pulled out, zipping up his pants with a smirk that could only be seen through the moonlight of the windows, he understood what his mother had meant. 

He felt completely and utterly sick the whole next day. Like she had a few months ago, his mother simply handed him a cigarette. “Take this, it’ll make you feel better.” He took it bitterly, figuring he couldn’t feel much worse, refusing to look in his mother's eyes. No matter how many men had come after the first, Ian could also remember, could always see, the crazy look in that man's eye after taking his virginity, his last scrap of innocence. It didn’t happen again for a while until it did. Gradually it becomes more common and by the time he was fourteen he had finally come to accept this as his life.

He stopped crying about it, instead, he used drugs to mask the pain as he let them use his body. He kept telling himself that he was doing the right thing, he did this for his mother, so they had a place to stay, so they could afford her medicine so she could stay afloat, to avoid another incident. By the time he was fifteen he had a job at a gay club, having tricked the manager into believing he was eighteen using a fake ID he got after fucking a man who made them. By this point, he was numb to it all. Giving head in bathroom stalls, all for the sake of a dozen bucks. This was his life, and that was that. 

It didn’t really get better as time went on, more a numb acceptance. Some nights he’d give himself completely over, escorting gay men to hotel rooms to hide from their wives. It wasn’t always smooth, sometimes he’d get beat up, for it wasn’t easy being gay where he lived, but it was his only income. As he saw it there was not more for him to offer. He was still in high school for it was required by law, though it wasn’t like he was flying by, he had C’s and some D's, passing. 

Last year Ian ran away, he couldn’t handle being with his mom and her new drug addict boyfriend. After having a panic attack after escorting a guy for the night, he was nice enough to drop him off at a hospital where he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, just like his mother. So now he had to do this for him. It wasn’t as if he had a job or many other redeemable qualities, he needed money somehow. Money for food, shelter, and his medicine that was another bleak aspect of his dreary life. However as he sat across from this blue-eyed boy on a cold January night, he felt calm for the first time in a long time, but a job is a job. “Fifty bucks and I’m yours for the night.”

~~~

Before heading to the abandoned building, Mickey just sat there, his feet seemingly glued to the floor. He didn’t want to go home tonight, he couldn’t. It wasn’t safe there, not with how much his dad had been drinking. Now he was convinced he was the one drinking, what had he just done? He was about to spend fifty bucks for a fuck, but he didn’t want that, he just didn’t want to be home. He wanted to be anywhere but there. 

The last time his father came home this drunk he wanted to make sure his children weren’t faggots, his words. In his mind the only way to prove this was to deliver some coke, do a line, and then fuck a hooker or two. Normally he was able to leave the house before that point, but he still feels the slight ache of the bruise on his waist from his dad along with the ache in his jaw at that punch that knocked him unconscious before he woke up naked with cum on the floor nearby. He didn’t know what happened, he didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to know. 

He just took note to leave his father, Terry, when he can home drunk but that happened all too often, as he continued to entwine his kids deeper into his drug dealing, ensuring their failed future. Mickey shivered as he thought about it, it wasn’t the first time but it was different. It was different because he was there, it was happening to him, yet it was also as if it wasn’t him entirely as he woke up feeling like his skin wasn’t his. It was a sensation he could never explain and wished people would understand but was also happy they hopefully never would. 

His father knew he was gay, not that he would ever admit to it. He walked in on him once fingering himself while watching gay porn. That is normally enough of a confession, but his father couldn’t wouldn’t, accept this. Mickey just remembers being terrified, and rightfully so, as he saw his dad open the door, quickly shutting the laptop and removing his fingers, trying to pull a blanket over his naked body, but it was too late. He remembers everything going dizzy as his dad beat him, over and over. He remembers his dad telling him that if he was going to be a faggot he might as well benefit from it, that he should be punished, that no one else was to know. He kept saying that over and over as he hovered above him, thrusting into his body as he struggled to leave through the occasional punches in the jaw. 

This was something Terry never mentioned again, and Mickey just tried his hardest to forget. I guess that was the best way to stop him from being gay because all he could do for the next month was lay in bed or take excessively long showers, never feeling clean enough. He wished his mom was there, but she was never coming back, Mickey knew that.

Pushing his thoughts aside, he got off the train at the closest stop to the building he was to meet Curtis at. He walks inside with a smile on his face as he sees him lying there, asleep. Mickey lightly kicks his foot and he jolts awake, panic in his eyes. He calms once he sees the blue-eyed boy. “Oh sorry, hi Mickey. Sorry, I’m not ready, I, well, you saw.”

Mickey sits down beside him before speaking. “You don’t need to be ready, it’s okay if you sleep. We don’t have to do anything yet.” Curtis just looks at him confused at that response. “If I’m completely honest I just didn’t want to be alone tonight. I mean, you’re hot as fuck, but I mostly just wanted to talk.”

“Well, that’s new. What do you want to talk about?” The redhead replies.

“What’s got you so tired?” Mickey was pretty sure he knew the answer but he felt the need to ask anyway.

“Long night last night.” He replies bluntly.

“So, this is… what you do?” Mickey approaches cautiously.

“Not like I chose it. I mean some people sell their intelligence, some people sell items, I sell my body.” Ian is confused at his own response. Why did he tell him that? He would never tell other people that, but for some weird reason he feels safe around Mickey, a strange reason he knew he couldn’t explain. 

“Oh.” It goes silent for a moment with Mickeys short and hesitant reply. “I’m sorry.”

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Curtis breaks the silence. “So what brings you to pay a hooker to talk with?” Mickey cringed inwardly at the word hooker, memories flying back, as Curtis asks.

“I can’t go home tonight. I mean, mostly it was a last minute decision, didn’t even think of a fake name.” Mickey replies with a bitter chuckle, at the realization of this is what his life is.

“I did, but it’s kinda easy at this point, been using it for years,” Curtis says casually.

“W-um-what do you mean?” 

“I mean, it’s not safe for me to use my real name so I don’t.” Suddenly Curtis gets increasingly anxious and agitated, speaking with words laced with anger. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this right now, are we going to fuck or not?”

“Sorry… I mean, yes, I’d love to fuck you, but I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to.” Mickey’s tone is soft, comforting with that response. A tone Ian is not used to as his voice also seems to drop, yet still shining with agitation.

“Really man? You don’t have the money or something?”

“No, I have the money,” Mickey assures.

“Then what’s the problem? You not gay?” Curtis Prods.

“No, I’m sure I'm gay and looking at you I wonder how all guys aren’t,” Mickey tells Curtis, eyes roaming over his muscular and tall body.

“You don’t have to flirt with me, you already have me.” Curtis reminds him.

“I didn’t on the bus yet I still couldn’t keep my eyes off you. What’s your name?”

“Ian.” Suddenly Ian reaches in and just goes for it, pushing his mouth against Mickey’s. This was very unlike him, he rarely kissed people if he could avoid it, but something about this boy, Mickey, was different, welcoming even. I suppose he was calming, something to do with the mixture of blue eyes in a brilliant contrast with the black hair and his soothing and caring words. This was ridiculous. 

However, Mickey didn’t pull back, opening his mouth slightly to allow Ian to deepen the kiss. Mickey was pretty sure this was all just a show, a show he put on for all his customers, but Mickey was okay with that, Ian was good at it at least. Yet even as he thinks of all the other men he’s probably held and kissed just like this, he can’t help but still deepen the kiss. 

“Wait,” Mickey mutters softly, a few moments later as he barely pulls away from the kiss. 

“What?” Ian asks looking slightly disappointed at the withdrawal.

“I want this to be good for you,” Mickey says looking right into his green eyes.

“Am I supposed to be paying you or something now?” Ian asks sarcastically.

“I’m serious. I know what this is, I’m not delusional, but still, you deserve to be happy. I want to make you feel good.” All Ian could wonder was who is this boy? Where did he come from? Did he not understand that this was simply part of his job? “How can I do that?”

Suddenly Ian pulls away, uncomfortable with this new feeling of intimacy, yet showing it with red-hot anger as he stands up, looking down at Mickey who he had previously been kneeling next to, arms around him, on the floor. “Want me to be happy? Just fuck me, pay me, and I’ll be on my way. That’s what everyone else does. Why do you care so much about me? Just trying to save a couple bucks to leave this place, by any means necessary and all that shit, but isn’t that what we all want. I mean fuck, you can’t go home, you said it yourself. So just fuck me, if you want me to feel good you are barking up the wrong tree.”

Mickey just looks at him stunned before a chuckle leaves his mouth, but not one of humor but irony. “Some people have more important reasons to leave than others. And all right, we’ll fuck. Not complaining about that at all, an escape is an escape after all.” With that Mickey stands up, slowly wrapping his hands around Ian's arms. “I’m just trying to escape some things too, I don’t need reminders of that in this.”

Everything about Ian’s expression softens at those words, an unspoken connection between the two boys who are beyond broken to the rest of the world. Suddenly Ian places his hand on the back of Mickey’s neck, hesitantly, as he pulls the blue-eyed boy into a kiss, but before their lips can connect he mutters two words. “Let’s escape.”


	2. Hold Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters word count: 2474

It wasn’t everyday Ian felt this draw towards someone. He couldn’t explain how those words slipped out of his mouth to be heard by the blue-eyed boy's porcelain ears. All he could think about right now was the feeling of his lips against his, blue eyes shut behind lids coming to a close with long lashes that Ian couldn’t seem to get his eyes off of. 

It wasn’t long before Mickey pulled away from the kiss, ripping his shirt over his head and tossing it venomously to the ground. By this point there was no denying the pull towards the other boy seemingly feeding him, his infatuation taking over his every movement as he unzipped his jeans, pulling them down as Ian removed his shirt and pants as well. “How do you want me?” Ian asks, breathless before crashing his lips against Mickeys, kiss hungry with the need to find an escape.

“I want you in me.” Ian doesn’t need to hear anything more, removing both boys boxers hastily and grabbing the lube and condom from his jeans before colliding his lips back with Mickeys, mouth slowly moving down, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck. Ian had learned over the years that if you make the other person feel special, they are more likely to tip, however, he had seemed to turn off that side of his brain, just following what felt right. He didn’t know what it was but something about the look in his eyes made this seem right.

As the seconds passed feeling like mere minutes, Ian's thoughts seem to return to his body about the lovely boy beneath him. “I’m ready, please, just do something.” It wasn’t until then that Mickey feels Ian’s long, lubed, finger start stretching him open. Mickey’s mind starts flooding with the feeling of this man, so tall and poetic above him, working him open just perfectly, seemingly forgetting about all of the money as he’s reduced to a whimpering mess.

“Are you ready?” Ian asks, pulling out his fingers slowly and sliding the condom down his shaft.

“Just get in me.” With that Ian slowly aligns himself with the boy beneath him, slowly pushing in, the tight muscles contracting around him, familiarizing themselves with the feeling. Mickey keeps looking up at him, lying there on his back, as Ian bottoms out. Mickey’s mind floods with the wonderful feeling, yet his body seems to disassociate with the feelings of pleasure at the moment as tears start falling from his eyes.

Ian instantly stops, slowly pulling out as he notices. “Are you okay? Do you need anything? Was that too much? Do you want me to stop?” Ian is clearly alarmed, panic clear in his eyes as he parades him with questions. As much as Mickey tells himself it’s okay, he can’t help himself from flooding with embarrassment as he places his hands over his eyes, sniffling back his tears.

“It’s okay, I can take it.” He replies, widening his legs as an invite. It only takes a few seconds before he opens his eyes, looking at Ian staring at him apprehensively. Mickey suddenly shuts his legs, sitting up to be level with Ian. “What is it, pretty boy?”

“I don’t want to use you,” Ian replies with a slight sniffle, trying to hide any emotions.

Trying to bring humor, lighten the situation, Mickey simply chuckles, his tears mixing with his laughter. “You were perfectly fine with me paying to use you not long ago.”

“That’s my job. You, I don’t know anything about you.” Ian replies as water seems to form in his eyes.

“We don’t know anything about each other. Fuck, I don’t know anything about myself.” Mickey answers with a sardonic smile. “I do know you did nothing wrong though, you aren’t the reason for my tears.”

“But someone is.” 

“You don’t have to pity me, we all have our shit, you know that, probably better than most people.” Mickey reminds him. “Just gotta keep saving up to escape, right?” He approaches with a slightly lighter voice, placing the palm of his hand lightly on the side of Ian’s jaw, causing him to wipe his eyes, a slight grin appearing on his face.

“Why don’t we escape, together?” Ian asks, looking at him hopefully.

“Dude, we don’t even know each other, I’m just the dude who paid to fuck you and then started crying once you stuck it in. You don’t owe me anything.” 

“We can get to know each other, and I don’t know, we could always just move away and be roommates?”

Mickey simply looks at him incredulously, “So I can be laying in bed while you bring home strangers to bang in the next room? I’m good. I’m gonna go, I’m sorry, let me grab the money.”

Suddenly Ian is back to that numb feeling as he takes the fifty dollars handed to him as the beautiful boy he felt a weird connection to wiggled on his jeans and threw on his shirt as he left the building. All he can seem to do once he’s alone is lay there, tears welling in his eyes.

Mickey is just as confused by his own actions as the redhead seemed to be, yet he can’t find the strength to stop. He shouldn’t feel like that towards him, he was a prostitute, this was all a trap. He knew he had to leave, before anything more. Did he play that bit with everyone? It felt pretty effective. It all else failed for him he could try to be an actor.

However Ian knew that look on Mickey’s face, he used to have the same expression, the look of this was just a part of life to get over with, to do it for the other person. Ian didn’t understand why, and he felt like he’d been punched when he said it wasn’t from him, knowing it had to be from someone else, someone undeserving. Most likely someone else who didn’t care. He couldn’t tell you why he seemed to care so much for this boy though, the question still swarming in his very own mind.

Maybe it was because when he looked into his eyes blue had never seemed so vibrant. He’d be lying if he said it was because his eyes were inexplicably blue, they were lovely, but something about them made them stand out to him. The grey flooring suddenly looked a little cleaner, colors a little more vibrant. God, it was so fucking cliche. 

He kept telling himself it was just because of his meds, maybe he took the wrong dosage, should probably get that worked out, but for some reason he still saw his blue eyes, welling up with tears, as he closed his eyes. For some reason he wishes he’d come back as he laid down where Mickey previously had, willing himself to sleep. 

~~~

Laying down in bed that night Mickey felt as if he was choking. Not because of a physical weight but more due to being stuck under the weight of all his thoughts. Did the redhead mean it when he said they could escape? Probably not. They were both doomed to failure. 

It wasn’t like he had much of a fighting chance, his father made sure of that. He was never fond of his father but when he turned fourteen and he saw his dad approach two men holding hands, a smile appeared on his face, maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. Well, that thought was cut short but him hitting them, square in the jaw, knocking them out cold, then dragging their bodies like they were merely pounds of flesh into an ally. Mickey didn’t follow his dad after that, instead, he stayed away. He was still certain he had to be straight, I mean he fucked plenty of girls, however, he eventually realized it was not normal to be thinking of having a dick in your ass to get you off. It took a while, but Mickey was eventually able to admit to himself he was gay, but as he saw his father beat those gay men, he knew he could never know. 

Mickey continued to look at the ceiling, trying to read it for hidden meaning. He heard his father outside his room, yelling with drunken cheers. However all Mickey could do was lay there, wishing he was back with Ian. He felt ridiculous, it was completely insane. Ian was a prostitute, a hooker, he wouldn’t settle down, not with someone like him. He couldn’t even handle getting fucked when he paid for it, the only reason Ian would ever remember him would be because he was the pathetic sap who broke out in tears. A few minutes later, Mickey hears a loud crash outside as his door swings open to reveal Terry stumbling towards his bed, struggling to shut the door behind him.

“My darling faggot.” Terry slurred with his drunken tone, enunciating the last word. “You ready to be a good boy? Take it in the ass like a good faggot, prove your worth to me.”

Mickey knew this situation all too well, but mostly he knew it would be worse if he put up a fight, a fight that would only leave him with bruises. He wanted more than anything to leave his skin at that point, but he settled for turning around on his stomach, crying silently into the pillow as he became fully aware of the presence beside him, gripping his hips and ripping his boxers away. He felt paralyzed, completely frozen, as he laid there, biting the pillow to disguise his sobs of pain and his tears of anger at himself for going home, for letting this happen. All of his anger was suddenly directed at himself as Terry thrust into him, it was his fault he was here, he could have been away, with Ian.

All he could do was lay there, too scared to move, knowing that would only make things worse. Mickey tried to return to his thoughts, trying to block everything out, but he couldn’t as he struggled to catch his breath through his choked sobs. Suddenly he feels his dad pull away. “Better not hear any crying next time, only reminds me how much of a faggot you are. At least after I’ll know you’re good for something.” He hears huskily whispered in his ear through the reek of alcohol as the door finally slams shut, leaving him there alone, chills leaving him cold to the bone.

With no clue what to do or where to go, he quickly jumped in the shower, feeling dirtier than ever, before throwing on some clothes and a big winter coat, grabbing a small blanket, and leaving his house as fast as he could. Each step ached a bit as he walked to where he had been earlier, with Ian. He figured the boy had left, he had no reason to stay, probably found someone else, so he continued to head to what he assumed would be a quiet place to sleep, and to be alone. 

He couldn’t help his tears as he slowly walked to the abandoned building, feeling like nothing but a broken down shell of a man. His pace was slow as he trudged, each step labored with his thoughts and the pain in his ass. He didn’t expect to see Ian laying there when he arrived, he didn’t expect it at all. 

“Fuck are you doing here for? I thought you’d be gone.” Mickey says, gathering Ian’s attention as he turns to look at him.

“I didn’t think you’d come back,” Ian replied, feigning nonchalance.

“Then why’d you stay?” 

“In case you would.”

Suddenly Mickey feels nothing but resentment as he starts laughing dryly and harshly at his words. “What is your fucking problem? You’re just a gay whore, you already got your money, you can leave. I don’t feel like falling for your tricks anymore I’ve had a bad enough night already please just go.” 

Those words seemed to hurt a lot more than they previously had, hitting him with a dull ache before he replied. “I’m sorry, I don’t do this for everyone.”

“Then why me?” At this point, the tears he had managed to hide came barreling back, “Why me? I’m nothing special yet for some reason you’ve found it fun to torment me for the night. I can’t do this right now, I need to sleep could you leave or at least move?” His voice piercing anger as he spat the last couple sentences.

“I am not leaving, you shouldn’t be alone and I don’t want you to think you’re just another fuck because I don’t know why but for some reason you feel like a lot more to me. I will not leave, but I will move.” Ian replied, standing his ground, stubborn as he refuses to leave, moving a few feet to the side. He watches Mickey as he walks near where Ian is, as he throws down a small blanket. He appears to be struggling a bit, the slightest limp, still shining as Mickey tries to hide it. He couldn’t seem to remember if that was there before, he was pretty certain he was walking with steadily as he walked away from Ian earlier, but now his steps seemed much more anxious and labored. “You’re limping a bit, what happened?”

“Fuck off, I need to sleep.”

Ian doesn’t accept this answer, instead, he repeats himself louder to emphasize his words. “You’re limping a bit, what happened?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It fucking well does. What happened?” Ian continues to prod, anxious thoughts masked with the sound of annoyance with each added word.

“Could you leave me a-fucking-lone? That would be fan-fucking-tastic! This isn’t the first time, I’ll be okay. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself.” Ian tries to not seem upset by the venomous words, instead, his brain clings to the fact that it wasn’t the first time, that whatever it was that did this to him had done it before, that they were able to keep doing it. 

“I suppose you have no reason to trust me, so I’ll stop trying for now, but please, just know I want to help. Is there anything I can do?”

Mickeys words go soft at that question, as he slightly lets his guard down. “I don’t want to be alone, I can’t.” His words get caught in his throat while saying that, before continuing, “Please, hold me.”

With that, Ian simply moves closer to his previous spot, watching Mickey slowly descends to laying down before he wraps his arm around him, engaging in a warm hug. “Of course.” 

With that they fall asleep, comforted by each other's presence on that cold January night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I loved all your comments at the end of the last chapter, thank you so much. This isn't quite as long as the first chapter but you know, sometimes that's just how it goes. Anyway, thank you guys for reading. I know this chapter, along with the last, were sad but let's just focus on the fact that they ended up sleeping beside each other, so, happy thoughts? Anyway, thanks for reading and the comments, I was truly so touched by all the love and support. Have a great day or night or whatever it may be! I've already posted twice today but I am yet to write anything else, even with all the ideas swarming in my mind, so I'll just be uploading whenever I have them ready but I'll aim for at least once a week after this.


	3. You Were Here When I Fell Asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter word count: 3032

It wasn’t even three in the morning when Mickey jolted awake, breaths short, thoughts heavy. In a panic, he glanced around, taking in his surroundings, trying to wrap his mind around where he was. It took a few seconds but when he looked at Ian, for some unknown reason, he calmed. He was safe here. 

He felt safe at the moment but he knew what this was, he knew this feeling of safety would only be fleeting, he needed to leave, he wouldn’t be safe for long. He looked down at the sleeping redhead beside him before slowly running his fingers through his hair, careful not to wake him. With this, he takes out a piece of paper from the pocket in his winter coat and writes his phone number, his name, and then sorry, leaving it where he had been lying before taking off. 

The cold wind was bitter against his skin as he walked home, but he needed to check on his sister, he knew that. His father's drunk rampages did not only affect him, rather everyone in the house. Thinking about it now, he’s pretty sure that’s why his mom took her own life, but Mandy and him, they were fighters. When Mickey is finally inside his home, he decides to not waste any more time, walking up to Mandy’s bedroom door, before stopping dead in his tracks at the sound of her muffled tears.

Waking up from this realization, he slowly opens the door, heading over to his sister to embrace her in a hug before she could realize and push him away, saying everything was fine like he knew she would normally. Feeling his arms around her shoulders she looks up at him, her eyes red and puffy from her tears. “Hey, it’s alright,” Mickey tells her, his voice soft and soothing.

“Where were you? I was here, all alone, with him.” Her crying continues as she asks, lowering her head back to her hands.

“I’m so sorry Mands,” Mickey tells her with a gentle and reassuring pat on her shoulder.

“You don’t get to call me that right now.” She says with a newfound anger in her voice, her tears turning into misplaced rage. 

“What happened?”

“Use your fucking imagination, I’m sure he did it. You know, I’m not just a punching bag to him, I'm the last traces of mom. Why couldn’t mom had just left him, take us with her? Instead, she left us with this monster. She was weak.” Her tears were back now after her spite of anger that was still present in the first sentence she spoke.

“Mom wasn’t in a good place.” Mickey reminds her, though Mandy’s response is cold.

“And now due to her, I can never be either.” Mickey and Mandy had long wished they could leave their father with their mother, however by the time Mickey was twelve he had realized it was nothing but a set of false promises as she kept going back to him until one day she didn’t come back to anyone. “I’m sorry Mick, you didn’t do anything wrong, I can't blame you for taking off. I tried to leave too. Didn’t work out that well for me. It’s just…” She pauses, looking for a way to say something she isn’t sure words can be used to describe. “You’ll never fully understand what it’s like.”

Mandy doesn’t have to say much more for Mickey to know exactly what she means, and while he’s never told her before how well he truly knows what she means, he decides he needs to calm her, trading in some of his secrecy for support. “He uses me sometimes too.” He tells her knowingly. 

With that, both Milkovich's seem to sink, knowing what the other means, while they sit there in a mutual and comfortable silence, supported only by the presence of the other.

~~~

Ian’s not too surprised to see that he woke up mostly naked, alone, in a random location, that is until he remembers the blue-eyed boy from the night before. Mickey. He scans the area around him, searching for a sign of him, before realizing there is none. Ian felt completely and utterly clueless the night before, no way to show the other boy that he was really trying to care, but he pushed it to the side, for now, simply gathering his things to head out. He had to go to work, and he had only just done his job, nothing more, nothing less.

That is until a little note fell from the bundled blanket in his hands containing ten digits, the word Mickey, and a simple sorry. Ian could work with this, at least now he had a way to contact the boy as he continued to gather his things in his black singe sack and head to work on the train. It was slightly warmer outside than the previous day, however, the chilled winds were undeniable, making the warmer weather feel a million degrees colder.

His work was far from where he had been the previous night, requiring multiple pit stops to switch trains as he made his way to Boys Town. As he walked into the Fairy Tail, he was greeted by the constant loud, blaring music, and aroma of all the men who had come and left. He was pretty certain an infinite number of paint jobs couldn’t remove that aroma from this place, a dark and dirty building with a bar, music, and colorful lights so no one was the wiser. 

He simply just blocked it all out as he went to the back room, opening his locker to gather his ‘uniform,’ if tight, gold, spandex shorts and a tacky bow tie could be called that. He simply just put his belonging in his locker before quickly changing, ignoring the knowing glances of the other men that had paid their way into the back room, instead he prepared himself for his shift further with charcoal black eyeliner he was becoming surprising comfortable at good at using. 

“Curt!” Ian heard yelled in his direction as he was heading out of the back room.

“What is it, Brutus” Ian paused for emphasis before saying his name, as to mock the way he drunkenly slurred his own. “Have you drank enough yet, it’s only ten am?” He asked as he peeled the beer bottle from his grimy hands.

“Time doesn’t matter here muchacho. Every hour is happy hour! God, you should have seen yourself squeezing into that spandex, your ass is delicious.”

Ian was getting very impatient with that bombardment of drunken words by his coworker, but this is the job. “May I help you, Brutus?”

“I can name a few ways,” Brutus replied, glancing at his crotch in a suggestive manner, to which Ian looked at him completely unimpressed. “Oh don’t look at me as if you’ve never gotten drunk on the job, gotta make it a little fun somehow, loosen up a bit.” He finished that sentence by attempting to dance sexily but instead looking like a drunken idiot as he went on with slurred words.

“I should get to work.”

“Wait, Curtis, I have the money, it’s in my shorts for you to find.” With this, he reached out slightly to touch Ian, before Ian moved back ever so slightly.

“Can’t you just get an old twink to pay you for your time instead of paying me for mine? You save some money and I get back to work.” Ian suggested, his annoyance now clear.

“No can do muchacho. Those twinks aren’t nearly as good as you, they don’t get me off nearly as well at you. Fuck, they aren’t nearly as big as you.” By this point, Brutus was clearly looking at Ian’s dick, waiting for any sort of reaction to his words. With the realization that there was none, he simply stepped towards Ian, placing a hand on his dick to palm him through the thin material of the shorts. “I can make you feel so good too.”

With that Ian simply lightly pushes his drunken hand away, “I better get to work.” With that he simply turns around, heading out into the loud music and fervor of the club. 

Once working, he simply let himself get wrapped up with the blaring music as he danced on top of a podium. He would close his eyes, bite his lips, while gliding his hand down his body as he rolled his hips, pretending to be giving a private show to everyone in the room. In reality, he was just trying to tell himself he was giving a private show to Mickey, the strange boy he felt a weird draw towards. That train of thought was effective enough until it would be stopped by the feeling of a hand near his dick as they placed a dollar bill or two in his tight shorts. This is all a part of the job, he continued to remind himself.

A few hours later when it was time for his lunch break, Ian reluctantly went to the back room, throwing on some sweatpants and a tight tank top from his locker and removing the bow-tie before he grabbed his phone and the crumpled piece of paper he had been left with this morning.

Slowly, Ian steps outside, the cold air engulfing him as he dials the number written on the paper, careful to double check all ten digits for accuracy before calling.

“Mickey here. Who’s this?”

“Ian. You left me your number.”

“I suppose I did, you want something?” Mickey’s tone was rash, yet forgiving at the same time.

“You were here when I fell asleep, where did you go?” Ian’s tone was soft as he asked, trying to imagine the look in his blue eyes at the question.

“Home, best not to leave my sister alone with what I try to escape, right? You never answered my question, you want something?”

“You mean besides to see you, to talk to you?” 

“I suppose that reasoning is enough. Where can I find you, I want to talk too.”

“Didn’t sound like you wanted to talk just a few seconds ago when you were chastising me for calling.”

“Oh boo hoo.” Mickey teased in reply.

“Could you meet me at the Fairy Tale in an hour, in Boys Town?”

“That piece of shit?”

“My lovely working establishment.” Ian simply replied.

“I’m bringing my sister, I’ve been thinking about what you said. That is unless you didn’t mean it.”

“I said a lot of things last night, I reckon I stand by them. Which one are you talking about?”

“You said we could escape,” Mickey answered softly. “Did you mean that? Or is that just a way for extra money.”

“Let’s escape. Meet me at the Fairy Tale, bring your sister if you insist, I’m sure she’s lovely. We won’t leave yet, naturally, we have to talk, plan first, but yes, I meant what I said.”

~~~

Mickey had walked into the family room due to his phone ringing non-stop due to the new call. Terry had already left to a bar, leaving Mandy and him home alone. Once he had hung up the phone, a grin appeared on his face, he turned to the side to see Mandy’s door open, he hand resting delicately along the door frame, looking at Mickey. “Who was that?”

“A beautiful redhead.” Mickey felt slightly lost in a trance as those words flowed out of his lips like liquid, his grin remaining. With that Mandy simply walked up to him, plopping down on the couch beside him.

“Spill.”

“It’s nothing.” Mickey corrected.

“Spill.” Very few people were as stubborn as Mandy was, that is beside possibly the redhead. 

“He proposed something to me last night, that we escape this place.” Mandy already knew her brother wasn’t straight. While she wasn’t aware of all the details and would probably end up simply labeling her brother as bisexual if needed, she couldn’t say she was surprised by the interest in her brother's voice as he talked about him, as short as his statement was.

“You seem to be fond of that idea, so what’s it mean?”

“Get ready to leave, we’re heading to Boys Town.”

“The gay clubs? Fuck are we going there for.”

“We’re going to talk to him, he works there.”

“Mickey, are you intending to leave Chicago with a fucking hooker? And drag me along with you?”

“You say that like it’s much worse than staying here. All of us together, we can afford it. And can we blame the dude, we sell drugs for money, he just sells his body.”

“You sound fucking delusional.”

“Trust me, I know,” Mickey reassured his sister, looking at him completely dumbfounded. “Something about him Mands. I went to him after last night, he didn’t leave. He could have left, I mean, I’d already paid.”

“I thought you rounded up hookers, not paid for them,” Mandy said teasingly.

“Oh fuck off.” Mickey included his middle finger to that for emphasis.

With that Mandy simply just wrapped her arms around her brother. “I’ll go get ready, I’m sure it’ll be interesting to meet this dude.”

~~~

It took a little over an hour, but Mickey and Mandy arrived at the Fairy Tale. Heading up to the bar, Mickey simply looked at a bartender, gathering his attention with his impatient glace. “How can I help you, fine thing?”

“Not my type. Got an Ian by any chance? Might go by Curtis here? Redhead, green eyes.”

“We got him. Curtis!” He yelled back behind the bar, slightly opening the door to a back room. Mickey shuddered slightly, thinking about what may be going on back there. This is just his job, he reminded himself as he waited for the stunning redhead to appear. 

“You made it. That must be your sister?” He said, exiting the bar to approach them and looking over at Mandy. “Name's Ian, yours is?”

“Mandy. So do you just fuck guys or are you ever down for girls?”

With that Mickey steps on her foot, shutting her up as Ian and her chuckle. “What? He’s hot.” Mandy says to Mickey as he looks at Ian, a joking grin on her face.

“Pretty gay Mandy, not going to lie. You two want to come with me outside? Kinda hard to hear you guys with all the music.”

With that the siblings followed Ian outside as he expertly wormed through the crowd, them following slightly behind, not quite as skilled.

“So you’re ready to talk about it?” Ian asks both of them, even as it was mostly directed towards Mickey.

“Yeah, we could use the change of scenery. Bet you could too unless this is your desired crowd.” Mickey teases.

“I’ve been saving for the past year, now that I don’t have to give the money to anyone. Still, have a good amount of things I need to dump money on but I have been able to put a couple thousand aside. Should be enough for a couple months rent, leaving some time to find a new job. I figured, if we put our money together, we could make it happen.” Ian says, his tone suddenly serious, clear he had given this a lot of thought.

“What’s your last name? I’m Mandy Milkovich, this is Mickey Milkovich. Did you even know that?” Mandy butts in.

“Ian Gallagher. I suppose I forgot to inform you guys of that.”

“Mickey, we don’t know anything about this dude,” Mandy said, once again addressing her older brother as she spoke.

“Maybe not, but we know a lot about home. I don’t know about you, the unknown sounds safer.” Mickey tells Mandy, who noticeably calms at the remark.

“Okay, Ian, I’m down.” Both Mickey and Ian looked at each other, seemingly surprised by her quick change of opinion.

“That’s it?” Mickey asked her.

“You said it yourself. The unknown is safer then what we know. Not sure why but you two seem to already trust each other, he has money set aside, we do too, why not.” Mandy explains.

With that Ian simply looks over at Mickey hopefully, waiting for his answer. “Let’s escape. However, I don’t know about you strawberry shortcake, but we have some unresolved business first.”

Ian replies simply to that. “I could use some revenge too, as long as I know we can leave after.”

“So that’s it?” Mandy asks, looking at them talk as if she isn’t even there anymore.

“Yeah, that’s it. However, I’ll need fire crotch's help with our revenge. I think you’ll like my plan, we can take down two birds with one stone.”

“Two birds?” Ian asked, to which Mickey replies simply as if it was obvious, and by the look on Mandy’s face, she seems to think it’s obvious too.

“Yeah, whoever fucked with you. Boys don’t become prostitutes all on their own.” Mickey informs Ian.

“Okay, then what’s your plan?”

“Still gotta work out the kinks. Meet at our spot tonight? We can talk it over.”

“Our spot?” Ian’s voice softens at the association.

“Let’s not get sappy. Meet me there after your shift, gonna take Mandy with me there after my shift at the Alibi. Alright?”

“Alright, I’ll see you there, at our spot,” Ian replies before heading back into the club.

“Oh god, you two get a room.” Mandy butts in, causing both boys to chuckle at the intrusion.

As both boys left, they couldn’t really explain it, but for once, they felt completely safe. Maybe they spoke too soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just finished writing this, I hope you guys enjoyed. Guys, I just gotta say a huge thanks for reading, for the kudos, comments, all of that stuff. I was honestly so shocked when I got my first couple comments, I was pretty convinced no one would even read it, let alone like it. I'm gonna work on the next chapter soon, our boys are gonna have a lovely discussion on ways to get revenge because that's sorely needed. Also sorry for the very last sentence, I can't make things too good for them yet. Before I ramble too much because god knows I can ramble for days, thanks for reading and I hope you guys and gals have a great day or night.


	4. Send Her In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter word count: 2844

It wasn’t until one am when Ian graced Mickey with his presence at their spot. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“You can’t be late when there was no set time. Mandy went home like thirty minutes ago, she kept falling asleep so I sent her back.”

“So it’s just us?” Ian says, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“As wonderful as that sounds, we need to talk. Sit.” He said patting the spot on the ground beside where he was sitting, leaning against the cement wall. “How did you get here?” Mickey asks, voice suddenly soft and sincere.

“The train,” Ian responds, confused.

“No, that’s not what I meant. How did you get here? Like how’d you get to be you, doing what you do, trying to escape with practically a stranger?”

“I guess you could say a series of unfortunate events?”

“Cut the bull crap, Gallagher. Who did this to you?”

Suddenly the air became dense and thick as he hung his head solemnly, a single red strand of hair covering his forehead. “My mother.”

“For me, it’s my father.” They sat there for a second, looking out into the distance at the broken glass piercing through the windows leading to a skewed view of the moon on the opposite side of the building. “I can’t stay with him much longer, neither can Mandy. Especially not now… not that he knows.” With that, Mickey leans his head on Ian’s shoulder, breathing in his scent, thankful he doesn’t have to reminisce alone. 

“I left my mom last year when I started saving up. Before then she viewed it as a fun game to find where I was hiding my money and steal it to buy drugs. Can’t fully blame her now, I guess we all need a source of escape. She texted me this morning, I didn’t reply, I don’t normally. She just randomly texts me addresses of where she is staying hoping I will come back to her.”

“Why haven’t you? You seem to still love her, in a fucked up way that is.” Mickey asks through the tension of their weighted talk and with the only light coming from the moon piercing through the broken glass.

“Sometimes love doesn’t matter. She said I was the only kid she dared to keep yet she still treated me, well, she made me who I am today so I suppose that speaks for itself.”

“You have siblings?” Mickey’s ears seemed to peak at that, pushing away the tension of the moment as he remembered meeting some children with the supposed last name of Gallagher after collecting money that their dad owed Terry.

“Apparently I have four. I don’t know any of them.”

“I think I’ve met them…” Mickey looks over at Ian, waiting for, expecting, a hint of excitement at the news, but his face remains frozen solid. 

“Is that meant to cheer me up? Not like I've met them, they probably don't know I exist.” Was all Ian could say in reply. 

“I think we should find your mom,” Mickey tells him, swaying the attention away from his siblings.

“Why the fuck would we do that?” Ian wonders out loud.

“Revenge? Two birds, one stone, all that shit. My dad has a penchant for crazy women.”

“She’s not crazy. Just, she doesn’t always take her medications. She was getting better until she randomly stopped one day, stole all my medication and sold it for money. You can guess what she used that money for. I took off shortly after, last straw sorta thing.”

“What was the medication for?”

“Bipolar disorder.”

“Well Ian, I say we get our problems together, well, our people problems. I feel like they could only ruin each other, do it for us.”

“You mean, bring my mom to your dad so they can ruin each other?”

“That is with a little help from our friends.” Mickey snides. “I mean you said it yourself, your mom is unwell so if we say the right things we can probably act through her.”

“You realize I have no reason yet to hate your father. I mean, you have a simplified version of my mom yet you refuse to say anything about yourself. I’m not going to encourage my mom to get revenge on someone when I don’t even know what for. All I know it's not safe for you and Mandy, it'd be great if you could let me in, tell me why." Ian says, annoyed at the situation but instead showing his irritability towards Mickey.

“I think you have a clue. I think you know actually. I think you saw it in my eyes last night before I cried and left and you saw it again when I came back with that slight limp.” Was all Mickey was able to get out in reply. 

“Did, um. Does your dad?”

“Yes.” Mickey doesn’t even need to know what the boy was about to say, his father had probably done it. Luckily, Ian doesn’t seem to ask for any further explanation, instead, he wraps his arm around the shoulder of the shorter boy beside him as he seems to study the ground a few feet in front of them.

“Okay, we’ll do that. For the both of us. In the meantime, you should get some sleep.” Ian says soothingly.

“And you don’t need to get some sleep?” Mickey asks back in confusion by the use of the word you instead of we, was he going to leave him after all that?

“We both do, so lay down with me?” Ian asks, moving to lay down on the floor atop a blanket he hastily laid down just seconds before.

“Okay, move over fire crotch.” Is all Mickey says as he moves to lay down beside Ian, a newfound understanding for the boy who didn’t seem to need his words to tell a story. 

As they fall asleep beside each other, comforted by the warmth of the other, the silence is broken for just a second as Ian’s thoughts continue to engulf him. “I’m sorry he did that to you.”

On that note, both boys are asleep, packed together like sardines, sleeping safely in their spot.

~~~

Mickey woke up beside Ian, comforted by the presence of the red hair, and tall, lean, figure. As he moved to stand up, he noticed the redhead slowly shake awake at the movement. "Mickey?" He hears Ian ask in a muffled, tired, tone. As Mickey replies he can't help but think that this is something he could get used to.

"Yeah, Ian?"

"You up?" Ian's tone is still groggy with sleep.

"No, this is just your imagination," Mickey replies in a sarcastic tone. With that, a grin appears on Ian's face as he turns to look at Mickey.

"Why do I feel like I've known you for forever already, after not even two days?" Ian asks, the grin still apparent on his face.

"Don't ask me. You almost ready to go?"

Ian replied simply, with a groan as he pulls his coat over his face. "No."

"We'll have to sometime." Mickey reminds, his plan still potent in his mind.

"Monica can go suck a dick for all I care." All Ian does with his added comment is turn around on his stomach, annoyed at the thought of seeing her.

"With our plan, she probably will." Mickey jokes, attempting to lighten the mood. It appears to work as Ian turns around, removing the coat from his head, a new grin plastered on his face.

"I'm ready to go," Ian says, the mood quickly lightening, as he puts back on his shoes and stands beside Mickey.

"Now that's the spirit," Mickey says as he stands up beside him, ready to go as well. "Ya got the address ready?"

"If you mean to ask if it's pulled up on my phone screen, it's about to be," Ian replies as he looks down at his phone, pulling up the text screen. "Think I should text her, say I'm coming or something?"

"So she can start preparing how to steal your meds again? Be my guest."Mickey replies as if it is a no-brainer, despite not giving an answer.

"I'm going to text her." He tells Mickey as he starts typing, saying each word slowly as he types them. "I will be there in an hour, maybe more, with a friend. Send." He turns to look at Mickey.

"Now you get to wait for a reply, with your 'friend.'" Mickey remarks as Ian playfully shoves his shoulder.

"What else was I supposed to say?" Ian replies.

"I don't know, a customer?"

"So you intend to pay me for this?" Ian jokes.

"No," Mickey replies, uncertain.

"Well then you aren't a customer, you're a friend." Ian reminds, causing a small grin to appear on their faces as they head to the train.

They travel most of the way in relative silence, both boys preoccupied with their own thoughts as they go to Monica's new place of residence.

It isn't until they arrive that Ian breaks the silence, addressing Mickey as he knocks on the door. "Sorry for what you're probably about to see."

Ian isn't let down as Monica swings open the door with a manic grin on her face. "Oh, my sugar baby!" She says as she pulls Ian into a tight hug, Ian dubiously hugging back through the uncomfortable feeling throughout him. "Where have you been? Oh my god you're so big!" She exclaimed, her words slightly slurred and by the smell from inside the dingy house, she had clearly been smoking and was now quite high. She runs her fingers through his hair, moving them around in a teasing motion before continuing. "Glad you came back, mommy could use your help with cash."

With this, Ian steps back just enough for Monica to stand up straight, looking at her boy like he was her whole universe. "This is Mickey, my friend. We found somewhere safe you can stay for a bit."

"Oh honey, I'm okay with Seth here." With this, she steps back, hand still on the doorframe as she looks into the house. "Seth baby, come here! My son's here with his friend!" With this, a tall, scrawny, man appears behind Monica. "This is Seth." She says once again through her manic smile as she turns back to kiss him.

"Fuck's that smell?" Mickey interrupts, causing Ian to look at him questionably. "I know my drugs, this ain't weed. What are you cooking back there Seth? Meth? Cocaine?" With that, Seth suddenly looks at him nervously. "Bingo. Monica, you don't know me, nice to meet you, your boyfriend is cooking meth. Cops won't be too happy with that."

Ian simply looks at him incredulously, what did he mean by cops won't be happy with that? Wasn't as if they would know all of a sudden. "Mickey?"

"None of you know? Cops due to having their routine checks here in about a week. Might want to get out of here before then." Mickey replies confidently.

With that Monica simply looks at Seth, "I think I should go with them." She says innocently as she looks him in the eye.

"Fucking slut, you still owe me fifty bucks," Seth replies in a slur.

"Ian?" She asks as she looks at him with new puppy dog eyes.

"Monica. It's your debt to pay, not mine." Ian simply replies, unfazed by the puppy dog eyes. "Don't you still have other ways of paying men." To that, Monica's face morphs into something else, as she considers what he says and looks at Seth to see if he would be okay with it as her form of payment. However, Mickey's not fucking having it.

"That's fucking enough." He says bitterly as he pulls fifty bucks from his pocket and slaps it in Seth's hand. "You should try and use it to move your shit before the cops come. Let's go Monica, Ian." 

With that, he simply turns around and starts walking away, leaving the three of them to look at him confused before reluctantly closing the door, leaving Seth inside as Monica and Ian follow him, Ian walking a bit faster to distance himself from Monica to talk to Mickey more privately. 

"Did you mean it, that thing about meth and cops?" Ian says quietly in Mickey's ear.

"Meth was a lucky guess, well not that lucky once you got a look at the guy, seemed like an obvious choice. The cop thing was utter bullshit, but it got her out of there, didn't it?" Mickey replies simply as Ian looks at him in awe at his quick thinking. He was clearly much smarter then he let on. "Fuck you looking at?"

"You." Is all Ian replies with as he slows his walking pace to be closer to Monica.

"Baby! My prodigal son has returned!" She beams at Ian.

"So this guy you're gonna stay with, Mickey's dad. The payment should be your standard."

"You wanna help your mom out with that? Now that you've returned?" Monica looks at him suggestively.

"I've fucked enough old men for my time, you can have this one," Ian replies simply, causing Mickey to slightly chuckle into his hand from a few feet up.

"Oh, and don't you dare cry during it. Huge turn off of his." Mickey yells semi-jokingly from in front of them. 

"Is he handsome? I mean, his son sure is." Monica asks as she looks at Mickey up and down.

"Eyes off mom, he's mine," Ian replies, causing Mickey to blush which can luckily not be seen when his back is still to them.

"Just asking how far the apple fell from the tree," Monica replies defensively.

"Pretty fucking far." Mickey simply replies. "Like not even on the same playing field." He adds for emphasis.

"Oh." Is all Monica says in reply, smile still manic as she grins through her slightly yellow teeth, stained from years of drug use, but overall still seemingly unaffected in her drunken state.

With this, they continued to walk in relative silence until they reached the Milkovich house. 

"You two wait here, I'm gonna go talk to my dad. Ian, you're gonna stay here. Monica, you gotta come when I yell your name, okay?" 

"I'll make sure it happens, stay safe," Ian replies, walking out of sight of the front door while keeping Monica where they were standing near the street before Mickey turned around, heading to his front door, opening it slowly.

"Dad!" Mickey yells, just loud enough to get Terry's attention.

"What do you want faggot?" Terry replies irritably, not that it was uncommon.

"I found a good hooker, she's free as long as she can sleep on the couch for a few nights."

"Fuck I look like, a bed and breakfast?" Terry replies.

"No, but you do look like someone who likes to be blown during both bed and breakfast and what better way to guarantee that then to have a hooker around for both times. She's good at it, I tested her out already. She does like to be roughed up a bit, weird kink I suppose, a little hitting goes a long way. Probably shouldn't have said that because apparently, she's too embarrassed to tell most people that. Anyway, I suppose I can send her away." Mickey was clearly lying about the last parts, of testing her out and that she likes to be roughed up, but he said it anyway, knowing it would peak his interest. The part about a little hitting was simply so Monica would learn to hate him quicker; two birds, one stone.

"Wait. Send her in." Terry replied to that, interest obtained.

"Okay," Mickey says as he slowly steps outside. "Monica?"

With that, Monica walks inside. "She's a bit high right now, long night last night. Don't worry, she's clean. I'll let you two lovebirds be." Mickey says as he wiggles himself out the door, shutting it behind him.

If he is being completely honest, he feels a little bad about leaving Monica in that situation, but he also doesn't know her that well. Mostly, he knew that if his plan worked, it would end much worse for Terry then for her.

"What now?" Ian asks as he walks into view and up to Mickey.

"We wait." He replies. "Shouldn't take too long. Then we activate step two. This was step one."

"And if step one doesn't work properly?" Ian asks hesitantly.

"It will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you guys missed it, Mickeys 'step one' was to get Monica and Terry together and then to get Monica to hate Terry. We'll find out why in step two later on. I hope you guys enjoyed this word vomit I call chapter four. If you did feel free to leave comments and/or kudos. All of that ish is very appreciated. Thank you all for reading, I hope you all have a great day or night or whatever it may be. BYee.


	5. Let's Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter word count: 1711

It didn’t take very long, only about a day or two until Mickey came home to find Monica in his room crying. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Let’s stop crying.” Mickey coaxed as he approached her, lightly placing a hand on her shoulder, in which she only started crying harder. With this Mickey simply decided to pull out his phone, Ian's mom, Ian's problem after all, right?

To Ian: “Get over here, your mom is crying. I think we’re ready for step two.”

From Ian: “When you gonna tell me what the fuck step two is?”

To Ian: “Just get your lovely ginger ass over here. Haven’t seen you in forever.”

From Ian: “It’s been like two days.”

To Ian: “Exactly."

To Ian: "That’s already twice as long as I’ve known you.”

From Ian: "Fair point... I guess. On my way."

Suddenly Monica seemed to snap to attention, looking up at Mickey through tear stained eyes. "He fucking hit me! Your dad is a crazy prick!" Monica yelled back at Mickey.

"Keep your voice down, I was told that was your type." Mickey teased.

"Fuck you! You're just like him!" Monica yelled, tears returning.

"So now I'm the one who hit you? If you're so mad at him, just make your feelings known. I'm sure he'll listen to you. I mean I heard him say you give the best head of his life." Mickey replied, calming Monica almost instantly.

"Really?" Monica asked, ears perking at Mickey's final comment.

"Yeah." Mickey lied. "I think he's just nervous around you. Maybe you should show him that he shouldn't be. Have you told him how you feel yet?"

"No, I haven't, but why would he be nervous around me?" Monica asked, eyes big and seemingly innocent within just a second.

"I mean think about what you bring to the table, not every day you get a girl like you. I mean, you simply start bringing him coffee in the morning and I don't think he'd ever want to get rid of you."

"Would he stop hitting me?" Monica asked, focused on this question.

"I think he might do whatever you say, granted you take the final steps to show your worth to him," Mickey replies.

"What's my worth?" Monica replies simply.

"Let's not ask these essentialist questions. Just started preparing his coffee, grabbing him beers. He should become putty in your hand in no time. Just, don't rush it." With this reply, Ian finally arrives, slowly walking into the room, quickly gaining his mom's attention.

"Oh, my love!" Monica practically cheers as she lurches forward, wrapping her arms around her son.

"What happened here?" Ian asks simply, looking around confused as if trying to pick up on the clues the room may give away.

"It's all resolved." Is all Mickey says in response, still finding it best to not fill Ian in on every step of the plan, figured he'd keep him safer that way?

"You called me all the way over for this?" Ian asks doubtfully.

"No, I also wanted to take you out. On me." Mickey replies, leaving the house without further explanation as if his plan was obvious, a true no-brainer.

Confused, Ian turns around, following Mickey on his heels as they exit the house. As the door shuts behind him, Ian simply grabs Mickey's arm, turning him around to look at him.

"What is it gingersnap?" Mickey asks irritably.

"I believe I should be asking you that, where are we going?" Ian replies simply, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"We're going on a date, that is unless you don't want to."

"No, I want to, that sounds great." Suddenly a grin was on Ian's face as he continued. "Lead the way."

As if it was the only natural thing he could think to do, Mickey leaned forward, quickly kissing Ian's lips, before turning to head out to this cafe he had heard of a while back. "We're going to Greenline."

"That hipster-y place on 61st?" Ian all but stares in disbelief.

"Yep. Not exactly my scene but I'm not exactly out so figure no one I know will be there."

"Fair enough. I hear it's good though, I've never been."

"I hear it's affordable and it's far enough away. Gotta go cheap if you intend to leave this place soon, right?"

"You always gotta go cheap if you're us," Ian replies.

"Oh boo hoo. I want to hear all about you. Don't wanna see you disappear in the bathroom too long either."

"Oh, we monogamous now?"

"Not yet. Still nice to know you aren't giving head in the bathroom."

"Gotta pay for the coffee somehow." Ian jokes as they head down 61st, arriving at Greenline.

"Fuck did Monica even do to you? I mean, she seems like a crazy bitch, but she mostly just seems harmless." Mickey asks before they step inside.

"You know, that's not exactly a 'well fuck it, nothing better to talk about' type topic to spring up," Ian replies casually, trying to not think too hard about it as they enter the cafe.

"Well then, tell me when we're seated. Then, it's not in passing." Mickey replies simply.

"Can I get you a table?" The hostess asks as they enter the cafe, conversation paused.

"Yes please, for two," Mickey replies with a forced smile, but the lady leading them to their seat doesn't seem to mind.

"Lovely, right this way." She says, seemingly only taking two short strides before stopping beside a clean table for two. "I hope this is appealing to you two. If you need anything, my name is Christina." She beams at the two of them, placing a small menu on the table for the both of them.

"Okay Christina, thank you," Ian replies this time as they sit down, Christina turning on her heels as she goes to another table.

"So, spit it out," Mickey says as he looks at Ian now that they are both seated.

"Where do I begin? I guess it starts on my thirteenth."

"Thirteen!" Mickey almost spits out his water he was sipping on at that number. "Fucking pedos, fucking children to get their rocks off."

"Don't cry at my expense. I've had time to settle since I was locked in that RV that first night. I'm not the one who burst out in tears during sex a few days ago."

Mickey suddenly starts breaking out, laughing. As he calms down enough to talk he explains himself. "Sorry, sorry, just what normal people talk like this? We're so fucked! I'm over here crying during consensual sex because I couldn't stop thinking about the times it wasn't and you've become numb to rape because it's been happening since you were fucking thirteen, you see how fucked that is, right?"

Mickey was almost manic as he muttered that, seeming to forget about all the other people in the cafe. "Of course I see how fucked it is, but what can I do? I was a teen, I still am, just gotta save up to leave I guess."

"Fuck that, we're leaving tonight."

"What about step two?" Ian asks to that response.

"Oh, we're doing that. Today." Is all Mickey says in reply, suddenly fed up with anger, an emotion much easier to show then sadness. "Christina!" Mickey sells, effectively getting the waiters attention.

"Yes, sir?" She asks politely. 

"We're heading out, not exactly sure how much we owe but a twenty should cover it, right?"

"I believe so. Have a great day." She said graciously as Mickey pulled out a twenty, laying it on the table before heading out, Ian hesitantly following until they were both outside and a few buildings down.

"Where the fuck are we going this time?" Ian asked, annoyed at his rash behavior.

"The hardware store," Mickey replies simply, still walking quickly ahead.

"Why?" Ian asks angrily, following Mickey at an increased speed down the windy Chicago street.

"To get fucking rat poison."

"Why?" Ian is louder, more stubborn and angry this time as he asks.

"To put in the fucking coffee grounds," Mickey says, turning around to look at Ian. "Before you ask why your mom is now making my dad coffee in the mornings, you know, so he won't hit her."

"Hit her!? What the fuck are we doing Mickey?"

"There is only one way to get rid of someone forever."

"Oh fuck off with that bullshit. I don't need a rhetorical answer, I need a fucking straightforward, no bullshit, answer right now. What is going on?" Ian is furious now, yelling at Mickey as the wind courses over his body.

"Quiet down. Your mom will be fine, I mean, she'll most likely be convicted of the murder, that is if all goes as plan, but because of her mental state, she won't go to prison. She'll be out of your life and safer then she probably is right now bouncing back and forth between her druggie boyfriends or bouncing her son's ass off to them. The murder? Terry. He can't go hurting Mands or me anymore Ian." Mickey replies, anger once obvious in his voice suddenly resolving to sadness through his quiet tone, careful for no one to overhear.

"So that's your plan? Kill your dad, make my mom do the dirty work so you can walk free, hands clean."

"You get why I didn't tell you now, don't you? So, are you out now, you know, before it's too late and all that bullshit."

Ian hesitated before replying, thinking it over slowly in his head before replying. "I'm in. But we can't leave today, we have to do this right."

"Okay. So are we going to the hardware store or not?"

"Let's go," Ian said in reply, Mickey now turning to walk, with Ian right beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how short this chapter was, I didn't want to be even more of a piece of shit by going over a week without updating, not yet, I still have too many ideas. I wrote this kinda quickly, coulda made it better I suppose but this is what we got so I hope you enjoyed. I'm uploading this on Easter so happy Easter if that's your thing? I don't really know where I am going with this, but hey, now you know Mickey's plan! Tell me what you think (please!). Comments are always appreciated along with kudos, Y'all are precious (even when reading my depressing shit). Thank's for reading!


	6. They're On Their Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter word count: 1661
> 
> I've decided I'm going to try and upload chapters more often and just make them shorter because I suck and that's really my only valid reason. I hope you enjoy.

“Look at me,” Ian said fondly as he put his hands on both sides of Mickey’s head, gravitating his attention towards him. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Mickey couldn’t help but doubt that as he looked into his green eyes. “This was my plan to try again and now I’m too chicken shit to follow through.”

“You’re not chicken shit, we can take as long as you need for you to be ready.”

“You’re ridiculous. You can put up with my mashing of rat poison into the coffee grounds for when the coffee is made to take effect yet all of a sudden you go soft on me when I once again can’t follow through once you stick it in.” Mickey remarks, annoyance clear even as it is directed mostly at himself.

“I’m not ridiculous for not trying to pressure you into anything you aren’t ready to do. I know how it feels to be on the receiving end when you aren’t ready, I won’t put you through that.” Ian replies sweetly.

At this point, Mickey was just frustrated, as he lays back on his bed, naked beside for the boxers hanging loosely around his ankles as he looks up at Ian, being obnoxiously cool about his inability to be fucked without crying.

“Ugh, just fuck me. I’ll turn around, put my face in the pillow. You don’t have to know shit.”

“Mickey, you aren’t ready and that’s okay.” Ian coaxed.

“But I am!” Mickey insisted.

“Okay, then I’m not,” Ian replied sweetly, smiling at his new loophole. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to fuck Mickey, it was just that he actually liked this boy, and he didn’t want to fuck it up by doing anything before he was ready, even if he insisted he was, Ian knew otherwise.

“You’re a prostitute! Like fuck, you aren’t ready!” To that Ian simply laughed, he was right, he was ready, but he knew Mickey wasn't. In protest, Mickey turned around, raising his ass slightly in the air so it was more readily accessible. “Fuck me!”

Suddenly Ian seemed to have no strength to think this over, his dick doing all the thinking for him as he lowered his mouth to Mickey’s rim, eliciting a moan from him. With that unadulterated approval, Ian continued, running his tongue over his hole before swirling it around the rim of muscles, seemingly teasing Mickey, as he kneaded his ass apart, allowing more room for his mouth.

“Fuck Ian, stop being such a fucking tease! Fuck me!” Mickey groaned behind his heavy breaths, leaving Ian to insert his tongue inside him, just slightly before all the way, the muscles contracting around him, tight and strained at the new intrusion. “Yes, just like that! Fuck.” Mickey moaned as Ian continued, letting Mickey’s muscles relax slightly before continuing, moving his tongue in and out of his hole, simply tasting the boy, so hungry for his intoxicating taste.

As he watched the boy writhe beneath him, he couldn’t help but moan, his dicks growing as he sent vibrations through Mickey’s body. “Fuck, if you don’t get in my soon-” His protest was cut off as Ian continued, licking up against the shorter man’s prostate. “Oh fuuuck!” Is all Mickey could get out in return, any others words seeming to become caught in his throat.

Knowing exactly what spot he had just found, Ian continued licking there, further teasing the man beneath him as he moaned in pleasure, a slew of curse words leaving his mouth. “Fuck, I’m gonna, fuck.” Mickey moaned as he reached for his dick, hard and leaking as he started stroking it with his right hand, marveling in the pleasure of the warm tongue teasing his hole as he stroked his dick in his hand. “I’m gonna-” 

With that, Mickey was coming, releasing white ropes all over the sheets before Ian pulled back from his hole and Mickey plopped down on his stomach, seemingly ignoring the mess spread across his sheets below him. 

As Mickey chases his breath, he mutters, “Fuck, that has to be my best orgasm so far.”

“Oh, that isn’t nothing yet.” Ian replies with a smirk on his face before adding “Fuck you were so hot beneath me, moaning in pleasure. Your ass Mick, god, to die for.”

“That so?” Ian nods, “Well I’m gonna shower, get this cum off of me, you coming. I notice you still need some attention.” Mickey says, eyebrows raised, as he looks at Ian up and down, eyes narrowing at the bulge in his boxers, revealing a very obvious hard-on.

Ian can’t help but stare at Mickey’s ass as he stands up, kicking his boxers from his ankles before walking to the shower. “Lead the way."

~~~

Ian woke up the next morning with several missed text messages littering his phone screen.

From Monica: "Ian!"

From Monica: "Ian?"

From Monica: "Ian! I think I made a mistake."

From Monica: "Oh god oh god this is bad."

From Monica: "Mickey's dad is..."

From Monica: "Fuck, I was just angry at him, I'm not that strong, why hasn't he got up!?"

From Monica: "Ian gets over here."

From Monica: "Please baby boy, I need you."

From Monica: "Mommy needs you."

"Oh god, what the fuck," Ian mumbles to himself, rubbing his eyes as he sits up, getting up to get dressed.

To Monica: "Calm down, I'm coming."

To Mickey: "Where are you?"

He throws his phone on his bed, sliding on his jeans before going to the bathroom to quickly brush his teeth. This would be a long day. Going back into his room, he throws on his winter coat, surprisingly light as he adapts to the Chicago weather, and picks up his phone.

From Mickey: "Out. Why?"

To Mickey: "Get your ass home, I'm on my way there. Monica texted me. Multiple times. She's freaking the fuck out."

From Mickey: "Oh fuck. Here comes step three?"

To Mickey: "Shut up, just get your lovely ass home."

From Mickey: "Lovely ass you say? ;)"

To Mickey: "Not the time."

To that Ian slips his phone into his pocket, rushing out the door and over to the Milkovich house. Opening the door, he freezes, looking at his mom, mascara running down her face, her hair impossibly disheveled as she holds onto Terry by the ankle, his large body draped over the cheap hardwood floor.

"Ian, baby!" Monica says with a slight smile as she notices Ian. "Shut the door, now, we have a slight problem."

Ian knew exactly what happened, he knew of his plan, but seeing this sight, holy shit. "What happened?"

"Well you see, I gave him his coffee, as I've done the past few days. I decided I'd been doing this long enough that maybe he'd listen to my request so I asked him if he'd stop hitting me, maybe let me sleep beside him instead of on the couch." Monica paused then, adverting her eyes from Ian and scanning them back over Terry's body. "Well, he didn't seem to like that idea. He started yelling before getting up. He was going to hit me again so I ducked, kicked him real hard in the balls. He fell back on the floor in response, but then he just kinda stayed there. I tried shaking him, he isn't getting up. Ian, I'm not that strong! Did I kill him?"

The panic in her eyes said it all. She genuinely seemed to believe simply kicking him in the balls had taken her tormentor down, yet she was petrified. "He was probably sick, he doesn't exactly live the healthiest lifestyle."

"But he wasn't going to die! Oh, fuck." Monica pleaded, looking at Terry, fear in her eyes at what she had done.

With that, Mickey enters the room. "What the fuck!" He belches at the sight.

"Check his pulse?" Is all Ian says, motioning to Terry, an eyesore that he had surely not missed based on his previous comment.

"The fuck happened here?" Mickey asks irritably. Like Ian, he knew, yet he couldn't let on.

"Ask her. Monica, we gotta call the cops, get this taken care of."

"No Ian! They're gonna send me away!" Monica pleads with her son.

"He's dead." Mickey says simply, interrupting them after checking his pulse, "Ian you gotta call somebody, I'm not trying to be charged with assisting someone with murder or hiding the evidence."

"I didn't kill him!" Monica pleads, crying now, "Right?" She asks, a look of complete innocence in her eyes as she looks up at Ian. "Oh god please tell me I'm right."

"I'm sorry mom."

"I'm gonna step out, make the phone call," Mickey says, grabbing his phone from his pocket and heading outside.

"It's going to be okay mom." Ian coaxed as he bends down, placing a hand on her shoulder. At this point she was sitting down, hands on her knees as she pressed her palms against her eyes, crying. She wasn't crying from sadness though, she was afraid.

"Are they going to send me away?" She asks, looking up at him with tear stained eyes.

"Probably. If you plead guilty though I'm sure they will go easy on you, especially due to your mental state."

"Really? I'm not broken though! I'm me!" Monica asks sweetly before pleading the last words.

"I don't think you're broken, not completely, but you just killed someone. Accept the kindness they offer." Ian tells her, hand still resting gently on her shoulder as Mickey steps inside.

"They're on their way," Mickey says as he steps inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, thanks for reading this word vomit. I don't feel the best about this chapter or the last but... it is what it is? I don't know if I'm completely honest. Comments are love; never expected but always appreciated. I really just wanted Terry to die if I'm completely honest. Is that bad? Considering everything, I feel like it's not. Things should start getting better for our two but in my true fashion, thing's can't be going too well, because I'm cruel. You can hate me for it, it's okay. I wanna start writing some one-shots, feel free to comment prompt ideas. Also besides for my sad attempt at smut in chapter two, this was my first time writing smut so I hope it wasn't too terrible. Okay, that's all. Thanks for reading my word vomit. I hope it was somewhat enjoyable.
> 
> Shit sorry, I got one last addition, last minute, question. So I've been toying with the ideas of adding the Gallaghers to this? Either way Frank will probably be in a chapter or two because you know, Monica. But what do you guys think about introducing the Gallaghers to our story a bit? Lemme know.


	7. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter word count: 2064

Mickey sat on the worn out couch for a bit, simply waiting, as Monica sat beside Terry, crying as Ian attempted to comfort her. He was a good son, Mickey could never understand how he could still manage to show her so much love and compassion when she, without a doubt, ruined his life.

That didn't seem to register in Ian's brain this time as his mind swarmed with guilt, not for the death or even for the fact that Mickey and he had tricked Monica into believing it was all her fault, but simply because how broken down and distraught she seemed to be. 

To Mandy: "I don't know where you are right now, but don't come home."

Mickey quickly texted his sister, still sitting on the couch, his thumb toying with his bottom lip.

From Mandy: "Why?"

Sighing, Mickey decided it was best to not say the truth, especially over text.

To Mandy: "I mean unless you want to hear the sounds of Ian and I banging all night."

From Mandy: "House is all yours."

Quickly all conversation seized with a series of harsh and impatient knocks on the door. "It's the cops, open up!" With that Mickey lunged towards the door, opening it before they would get the idea that it would need to be knocked down.

With this, Ian slowly stood up, lifting his hands in a show of innocence as Monica's crying escalated.

"I called. Ian over there and I came here, saw that." He said gesturing at the body, "Called shortly after."

As one cop continued near the door frame near Mickey, three swarmed around him, one heading to Monica, one to Ian, and the last one to Terry. The one near Terry simply started examing the body, as best as he could, being careful to not touch it and therefore tamper with evidence.

Without being cuffed, Ian's hands were held behind his back by the cop as Monica's hands were removed from her eyes, cuffs being places around her bone-thin wrists.

"Relation to the victim?" The cop near Mickey asked.

As this question was being asked Monica sniffled, attempting to get words out before muttering, "It's all my fault, not my boy." To that, the cop holding Ian's wrists loosened his hold, careful to remain contact in case it was needed.

As the ruckus continued behind Mickey, he answered the cops question. "My dad. Her, partner, fuck buddy? Whatever works to best help classify."

"The redhead?" The cop asked Mickey, gesturing with a slight nod to Ian. 

"That's his mom, he was checking in on her, apparently she sent him a slew of texts," Mickey replied.

"We will need to see these texts." The cop informs.

"Of course," Mickey says as the cop nearest to Monica pulled her up, dragging her out of the house as she continued to sob.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to." She kept muttering under her breath, absolutely petrified as she hung her head low due with chagrin. "It was an accident. I was just angry." Her words were barely recognizable through her tears, but they were still there, prominent, as she continued to mumble them, seemingly on repeat.

At this point, Ian had been released as he walked up beside Mickey, addressing the cop near him. "My mom is unwell, bipolar disorder."

"Okay. You guys will have to come with us, to ask a few questions. Standard stuff."

"Of course," They said in unison, nodding their head in agreement, trying their best to stay out of the cops hair.

With that, all but the one cop left the house, Mickey and Ian close behind, as the one last cop taped around Terry's body, marking the crime scene for further investigation as needed.

~~~

"Monica Gallagher." Suddenly the room fell silent. "You claim to have killed Terry Milkovich without intent. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"Your reports show a repeated history of drug abuse and mental illness. Is this true?" The lawyer asked once more.

"Yes."

"Did you have any witnesses to the crime?"

"No, but my son and Terry's son showed up shortly after," Monica replied, sitting up on the podium.

"You are married to a Frank Gallagher, is that correct?"

"Yes, though we are not currently together."

"Is that why you were taking up residence with Terry Milkovich?" The lawyer asked.

"No," Monica replied uncertainly, looking out at the few people in the room, the lawyer, the judge, her son, and his son. It was then that the door opened and Frank came tumbling in, clearly drunk by the way he was walking as he threw his body down into a seat.

"Then what are the reasons you were staying with Mr. Milkovich?" The lawyer asked.

"A place to sleep, food. You know, the basics." She replied.

"What was your relationship like with Mr. Milkovich?"

She grimaced slightly, looking at her son, but continued. "Purely sexual."

"So in other words, you were trading sexual acts for a place to sleep, food, and other basics?" The lawyer asked once more.

"Yes." She replied after a moment of hesitation.

"I would assume this created an unhealthy living environment?"

"It wasn't always the most pleasant place to be. If I may, why is my husband here? We haven't talked in years."

"We were told to contact your spouse. That and your emergency contact, but he was already here, your son." She replied, causing Monica to sigh in realization. "Your son is a minor Mrs. Gallgher. We had to contact your spouse due to him needing to be relocated."

"What?!" Ian asked, standing up from his seat.

"Please sit down Ian. You needed a new place to live and he is considered one of your legal guardians." She turned, addressing Ian before turning back to Monica. "Monica, you can go back to the table. Ian, please come to the podium." The lawyer responded calmly as Ian fumed past her, walking up to the podium.

"What the fuck? I didn't commit any crime. I thought this would be over when she confessed." Ian snapped as he sat down.

"Watch your language. There are more matters to deal with here. You will need to gather your things, tomorrow we will pick you up promptly at noon. Where are you staying?"

"I've been staying at Motel 6, Elk Grove, on Oakton, for the past week."

"You have not been staying with your mom?"

"No..." Ian replied confused at the direction in which this was going.

"Ian Gallagher, what was your relationship like with your mother."

Suddenly the conversation made sense. "I took care of her. Her bipolar disorder is really bad and sometimes she refuses to take her meds. I've been making sure she takes them. Haven't been as hands-on since my diagnosis."

"Yes, in your files it states you also have bipolar disorder." The lawyer replied as if she had just hit jackpot.

"Yes, is that all ma'am?" Ian replied.

"For now, please stay until we are all done here and then collect your things. Remember, noon tomorrow." With that Ian stood up, walking down, still angry but calming slowly.

"May I have all of your attention?" The judge asked from her heightened seat. With that, they all focused their eyes and ears on her. "Monica Gallagher has pleaded guilty to unintentional manslaughter. Due to her mental state, she is being sent to a mental health institution for a minimum of forty years. The decision is final. Before you all leave, I was told our lawyer needed to address a Milkohilo Milkovich? Is he with us."

Suddenly Mickey's blood seemed to stand still as he replied. "Yes, ma'am."

"Please, enter the podium." The judge replied as Mickey started slowly standing and heading over to his new destination.

"Milkohilo, when we were investigating your father's body, we found a gram of cocaine. This led to us searching your home, including your room." With that, Mickey froze completely. "Are you aware of the contents of your room? The drugs?"

"Yes," Mickey replied slowly.

"I am sorry Milkohilo, this must not be an easy time for you with your father passing, but the drugs we found were not legal. We already know you had these illegal substances now, and with the amount we found and the fact that you are no longer a minor, that's equal to up to 18 years, however, considering everything, if you confess we can show more sympathy." The lawyer said, ignoring the people staring incredulously at the new turn of events.

"Yes, the drugs are mine, not all, but no one stashed them in my room. I am guilty and I plead for any sympathy you may show?" Mickey had spent plenty of time in the system by now to know that at this point, there was no point in fighting it.

"Milkohilo, you realize what you are confessing to?" The judge asked before the lawyer could continue talking.

"Yes," Mickey said in reply.

"Okay. For your corporation, I will be lenient. Six years, three with good behavior. That is all for today. The decision is final."

With this, the lawyer said one more thing. "Do not leave this courthouse Milkohilo, things will be worse if you do. I am sorry but the law is the law. I will give you 30 minutes, do not leave this building."

"Okay," Mickey said quietly as he walked off the podium and headed over to Ian. "What the fuck just happened?"

"You, sir, just got sent to prison for three to six years and I just got deported to my drunk father's house that I've never met. We've been better." Ian replied, attempting to use sarcasm to hide nervousness of being under Frank's thumb.

"She said I had thirty minutes. Can't leave the building. Can we talk? I suppose I won't see you again." Mickey said quietly so only Ian could hear.

"Yeah." He said, walking out of the room, sitting down on a wooden bench set against the wall outside of the room. It was then that a tear left Mickey's eyes, very quickly being wiped away.

"Please, just get out of here Ian," Mickey said softly, a tear leaving his eye once again as he clutched his fists in his lap. "I don't know why you would but do not wait for me. Just go."

"I can't, what about your sister?" Ian asked softly. 

"Her problem is gone. My problem is gone. I accomplished my goal. To run now, that is more then I was destined for. Don't worry about us Milkoviches, we're tough stuff." Mickey attempted to joke, failing as his sad chuckle turned into tears. "I'm sorry, I'm not normally this emotional. I know you probably find that hard to believe... I don't know. I'm gonna miss you."

"I'll miss you too," Ian replied slowly, emphasizing each word slightly as he placed his hand on his shoulder.

Shrugging off his hand, Mickey replied simply. "No, you won't. You'll be free, out of here."

"No, I won't. I'll be with my dad and these Gallaghers I've never met while I get to continue the joy of continuing to suck on old man balls for money while I wait for your sorry ass." Ian said attempting another shy laugh.

"We really gotta stop with these jokes, we aren't very good at it," Mickey replied, a small smile starting to form on his lips as he wipes his eyes.

"Mickey, I'm gonna wait for you," Ian says simply as if it is the only action that makes any sense.

"Do not wait for me, Ian. Please. Grab your money, and leave, go, as soon as you can."

"Mickey?" With that Mickey turns his head to the feminine voice as he suddenly sees the lawyer peering at him, eyes sympathetic. "It's time to go."

"I have to go Ian. Please, just go. Try and forget about me. You'll be happier that way, better off." With that, Mickey stands up and walks away.

"Okay, I'll go," Ian says quietly, sitting alone, talking to no one but himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to apologize now for falling off the face of the earth and not uploading. I was dealing with some mental health shit and this was put to the side. Still working on it but I have a sad attempt at a decent upload. I hope you enjoyed? Comments are always appreciated. Also, while I haven't written anything yet past this I officially have a full outline so it's not just me shooting blankly into the dark and hoping things end up as planned. Okay, that's all (for now.)


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